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Ghosts, Ghouls
This page contains the story of Ghosts, Ghouls & Fools. Ghosts, Ghouls & Fools “Trouble’s not a sometimes thing, it dims but won’t die out! Pleasure makes the Beagles sing, trouble makes ‘em sho-oout! Lookin’ for the Beagles! Not where rich men soar! Rich is for the regals, woe is all the Beagles kno-ow! Ridin’ on a busted bubble to wherever there’s some trouble, that’s where the Beagles go!” Stringer finished off with a riff. Scotty just nodded, giving a few claps. He then hummed, “You guys think you could play that last line a couple more times, then play the riff?” “Yeah,” Stringer answered, looking at Tubby for approval. He just shrugged and smiled. They replayed it with Scotty’s suggestion, and after finishing agreed that was better. “Great!” Scotty exclaimed, standing, “You know, this song has given me a great idea for a music video.” “Music video,” Tubby repeated, “That sure wasn’t in the contract.” “Oh, it’ll be fun!” Scotty went on, “I mean we don’t have to, but it’d be a nice bonding experience.” Stringer elbowed him, “Big-name bands do it all the time, it’ll be great!” Tubby sighed, shaking his head, smiling at his partner and elbowing him back. “Fine,” he said, “What do you have in mind?” “Well, your song is called ‘Looking for the Beagles,’ and I figure, it’s fall, Halloween is in fall, they’re setting up a haunted house in Central Park….” Stringer smiled and nodded at Tubby, who promptly nodded at Scotty, who just clapped excitedly. (...) “Are we just breaking into a haunted house?” Stringer asked, holding flashlights in each of his hands, following Scotty down a sidewalk near a playground. “You don’t need to get into scandals this early,” Scotty chuckled, “No, it’s open, but no one goes into haunted houses in daylight.” “We don’t have to pay, do we?” Tubby chimed in. “No.” “Radical.” Stringer and Tubby looked up at the building as Scotty fiddled with his camera. It was purple and as tall as the trees, run-down and built like a 1910s mansion. Stringer whimpered a bit. Tubby nudged him. “I’ll protect you from all the ghosties, hon.” Stringer cleared his throat, crossing his arms, “I’m not scared.” “Yeah?” Stringer just blinked at him, making Tubby laugh. “Fine, don’t come to me when you get scared to death,'' alav hashalom.”'' “Oh don’t you start saying that just yet, I’ll survive through it! If anything I should be protecting you!” Scotty took a picture of the building, stepping behind them for a full view, the camera clicking. Stringer jumped and grabbed onto Tubby. Scotty chuckled behind them. Stringer stared bitterly back at him. Tubby snickered, kissing his cheek. Scotty just hummed behind them. “Scotty if you’re-” Stringer started, but Scotty cut him off. “What? No, no, I don’t care, I’m just waiting. You nerds got any more PDA to do before we go in?” Tubby chuckled, taking a flashlight from Stringer and handing it to Scotty, “No, I think we’re good,” he turned back to Stringer, clasping his hands together and putting them to his cheek, “Right honey buns~?” “Oh my god,” was all Stringer said, skipping up to the door while Tubby and Scotty slowly followed, snickering. Stringer was stopped at the door, looking up nervously. “Ah, hon, it’s alright that you’re scared-” “I am not scared!” Stringer retorted, “It’s just-!” he rammed his shoulder into the door, nearly falling as it opened. The three stepped inside. “You got a plan, Scotty?” Stringer asked, placing a hand on his now-strained back. Scotty shrugged, turning on his flashlight, “Walk around for what, four or so minutes, just to be safe?” Tubby shrugged back, Stringer clicking on his flashlight too. Scotty readied the camera, but before he could start it, the door slammed closed, causing all three of them to jump. They all took a few steps back, startled. “Well,” Scotty said after a moment of silent staring, “We’ve got flashlights, don’t we? Let’s continue.” “Let’s,” Stringer gasped. “You alright?” Tubby asked. “Never been better!” he said, then jumped and grabbed onto Tubby as the floor creaked. “...ah’right.” He took a few steps forward, Stringer still tightly attached, floor creaking again. “So what, we’re just walking around?” Tubby asked, making no effort to pry Stringer off his body. Scotty nodded as the floor creaked louder around Tubby’s feet. “Sure is loud right there.” “Ambiance,” he answered without a thought, a loud crack nearby. “I’m not sure….” Scotty muttered, floor creaking again. “Tubby….” Stringer whimpered, Tubby ripping the flashlight out of his hand and shining it at the ground. A large crack sat right between the two’s feet. “Oh no…” he muttered, slowly backing up to try and escape, each step creaking the ground even more. The floor just cracked more under them, falling, Stringer just holding tighter in an attempt to keep them from falling. It was all in vain, however, as they both fell down, screaming. Scotty rushed over immediately, dropping down to his knees to try and reach for them. Tubby shook his head, standing, trying to jump up to reach Scotty, though he was far too high. He sighed. “I’ll try to find a way down from up here,” Scotty said, frantically, “You guys try and find a way up.” “Will do,” Tubby called back, voice edged in irritation as Scotty walked off. He turned and helped Stringer up, “If we survive this you’re marrying me,” he said, but Stringer just hugged him, tearlessly crying. Tubby quickly hugged back before pulling back and patting his cheek, “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Stringer quietly nodded, picking up the flashlight. “Surely there must be some staircase out, right?” Tubby mused, half to himself, half for Stringer's sake, “They must have planned for this, just in case.” “Tubby, I don’t think people set this up,” Stringer said, voice shaking, tightening his grip on Tubby’s arm, “Haunted houses aren’t supposed to try and hurt whoever’s coming in.” “What, you think this place was set up by supernatural unsatisfied spirits that faze through everything they touch?” he turned back to Stringer, who nodded, “Don’t be ridiculous. If you’re so scared of ghosts why do you even believe in them?” “Because an unsatisfied spirit refusing to go the afterlife makes way too much sense.” “I guess, but what would a bunch of ghosts need to set up a haunted house for? I’m sure their unfinished business isn’t with scaring strangers and especially not us.” “Your mom-” “Stringer why would my mom want to terrify and almost kill me?” “I mean, I don’t know how she was.” “Better than that.” Tubby snapped, then sighed, “I’m sorry Stringer, now’s not the time for this.” “I’m sorry too,” Stringer murmured, “I’m just….” he made a noise of distress. “It’s alright. We’ll get outta here.” “You think?” “We’d better, my dad’d kill me if I died down here.” Stringer just chuckled. (...) Scotty was mentally cursing at himself. Of course, his first clients in five years had to go and fall down the floor of a haunted house, front door locked, tenants keyless. He stopped, realizing he had absolutely no idea where he was going, or really, what he was looking for. What leads down to a secret basement? Probably nothing in the house. As he went to go out and start looking out for some cellar door, a ghastly moaning came from behind him. He turned quickly, ghost standing -floating, rather, Scotty figured- behind him. He wanted to scream but he was much too nervous. It looked just about what he had thought a ghost would. Pure white, the lower half was flowy like a visible breeze, the top half of the person who had given it up. The person looked like a more feminine Tubby. The ghost moaned again, reaching out a hand and slowly curling a finger, motioning Scotty to follow. Scotty nervously nodded, too scared to find out what would happen if he didn’t. Scotty silently followed the ghost a long time, taking in his surroundings more and more in case of more rotten woody traps. The ghost stopped next to a staircase, but instead of going up it, turned back to Scotty and pointed at a door right next to the first step, then drifted up the stairs. Scotty flicked his flashlight off at new-found daylight and turned to thank the ghost… but it was gone whenever he looked. He blinked in confusion but didn't let it weigh him down too much. He stepped out the back door back into the park and looked around. The cellar door he’d been looking for was a few yards away. He heaved open the heavy door, then looked around for something that could keep it propped open. This was one of the most out of a B-horror movie things he’d ever done, but nevertheless, used a firm stick he found to keep it open after stepping inside, hoping that it would stay. “Stringer..? Tubby?” He walked forward a minute, turning his flashlight on again, looking around. The floor creaked. He jumped back, hoping there wasn't another layer to fall down. Shaking, he went on. After another few minutes, and after hearing another floor creak much further away from him, he shone his light straight forward. “Ah!” exclaimed a figure with an accent. “Tubby?” Scotty called, voice full of fear and excitement. “Scotty!” Stringer called back. “Hey!! I found an exit just up ahead!” “Oh, sweet!” Stringer yelled back, Scotty moving the light to their feet, as not to blind them, but visible, so they wouldn't lose their way. They moved slowly, which was reasonable, but Scotty couldn't help being nervous about a not-so-friendly ghost appearing. When they climbed out Stringer was breathing heavily, either from anxiety or a thought that he might get dragged back down, which was what Scotty was having. “Well, I sure feel like I've gone to hell and back again!” Tubby exclaimed, Scotty laughing. “Well, this haunted house idea is a bust, what's the video plan now?” “A corn maze or pumpkin patch or anything on solid, earth, ground!” Scotty exclaimed, causing all of them to laugh. Stringer’s laugh ended in a groan, “In a few days, I’m going to have a multiple-day breakdown.” “Understandable, get better soon.” Category:Rewrite Category:Stories